


all the young dudes

by poppyharris



Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Crush, being eric harris is bad too, being gay in the 1990s is bad, don't be eric harris, i'm not??? sure???, slightly sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: eric totally isn't gay, but he does want dylan to touch him up.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

eric was so drunk. he stumbled into the klebold back yard, gulping down the rest of his bottle. dylan should’ve been with him. dylan should always fucking be with him. 

the stupid pool was covered over, causing eric to throw his bottle into the bush instead. fuck dylan. dylan was such a fucking pussy. “can’t come out, got to go to byron’s work thing.” bullshit. dylan just didn’t want to spend time with eric, that was the real reason.

the doors were shut and the lights were off, but eric knew where the spare key was. he remembered thinking dylan was touching him up, turns out he was just trying to reach behind eric to pull the spare brick out. 

pfft, they were all spare bricks. eric wanted to take all of it, possess something of dylan’s, if he couldn’t possess him. dylan was his. eric took the brick out of the wall, and stared at the glint of the key inside it. fuck dylan, man. dylan was stupid and dumb and too fucking tall and he did that really stupid thing where he made eric fall in love with him.

who was eric kidding? dylan had just been dylan, eric had been the fucking idiot to fall in love. dylan had looked at him with his big doe eyes, mumbled quietly about wanting to go eat, barely complained when eric was being an asshole. dylan was the perfect girlfriend, but a dude. which was faggy as fuck. 

like, last week, when dylan had been testing how deep his pockets were, and put his fucking shotgun in one. and then had the fucking balls to fucking bend over eric, reaching for a pipe bomb.

“is that your shotgun, or are you just pleased to see me?” eric tried to laugh it off, but regretted looking over his shoulder and seeing dylan’s rosy cheeks steadily darken. eric breathed out slowly, quickly moving away from the table and picking up a bottle of coke, turning away.

“uh, okay,” dylan raised an eyebrow, unscrewed the top and turned his back to eric. who was now fucking hard in his pants. eric had seen dylan’s dick before, they were both fucking guys, and totally straight guys, so they’d never had any qualms about getting changed in front of each other.

nothing had changed or happened, but eric suddenly wanted to either be fucking dead or attached to the lips to dylan klebold. and that thought fucking possessed him. he’d sometimes jerk off so hard to the thought of dylan’s thin lips around his dick that he wouldn’t be able to fire a gun the next day.

the recoil was incredible. and it wasn’t even like eric could install a recoil cushion on his dick. eric wondered if dylan would catch his drift if he asked him to “saw off his shotgun”. he came fucking quickly at the thought of dylan calling him a fag, berating eric for wanting to put his hands on him. 

“yeah, fag? you like it when i touch you, huh?” fake-dylan would whisper, licking over the shell of eric’s ear. his cheeks that rosy-red that made eric’s toes fucking curl. “you love acting like the big bad boss, but then i get a hand down your pants and you’re just a desperate slut.”

eric hadn’t even realised he was still standing outside, the sound of the pool behind him sloshing as he stood there. the brick was heavy in his hand, but he didn’t want to put it down. the heavy curtains over the back door suddenly had a light behind them. eric hadn’t even considered that the klebolds would be home. what was eric doing there? what had he even planned to do? sneak in and steal dylan? 

he dropped the bottle, the shattering glass sound making his head hurt. 

eric was lucky to stumble away with the brick before dylan poked his head outside.

* * *

“hey man, hold this while i-” dylan held out the bag, staring at the wall. “the fuck?” 

eric tensed. he could lie so easily to his mom, so easily to his therapist, incredibly easy to his dad. and yet he could feel himself getting nervous at the thought of trying to lie to dylan. fuck he’d fallen deep. dylan was just so fucking perfect with his fucking cute ass smile, his strong, capable hands, that stoop that eric just prayed to gently correct and get a kiss in return. eric didn't entirely remember how the brick had ended up in his room, but his entire body yearned to keep it, so he did. he owned a part of dylan, and that sated the fag demon inside of him... for a bit.

“ugh, fucking byron’s taken the spare key again. mom’s gonna have to deal with that,” dylan rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly at eric. “i’m really sorry, we’re gonna have to go around the front.” eric shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but god he fucking ached as dylan squeezed by him, his scent suddenly filling eric’s nose. 

eric gulped slightly, but smiled as he followed dylan. “damn, i’m sorry. why would he do that?” eric tried to keep his voice nonchalant, chewing on his bottom lip nonetheless. dylan just made him so… nervous. it was usually dylan that was the shy one of the pair. not that eric minded taking charge, but he became a fucking wreck around dylan. 

maybe that’s why he found it so easy to just go along with dylan’s suggestions. this was their plans, reb and vodka. dylan and eric. dylan provided that rock that eric needed to hold himself back, even if that was by making eric rock hard. he’d always found that he couldn’t control his rage, that was evident by what he’d done to brooks’ car. if dylan had been there, staring at him, silently, but reproachfully, eric wouldn’t have even let it cross his mind. 

dylan was his luvox, and eric ached to tell him how he felt.

but… maybe not while they were making propane bombs.


	2. the way i feel inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i never write a chapter two but i wrote like an extra bit that i didn’t think was long enough for a full fic and it neatly slots in here

“d’you wanna kiss?” dylan fucking hated himself. eric went silent, a jar full of gunpowder in one hand, duct tape in the other. he’d been in the middle of showing dylan how to ignite the powder through the tape, and had been in the process of putting the jar down when dylan had asked.

“kiss? me and you?” eric asked, uncertainly. eric seemed to go through a thousand and one emotions, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. why the fuck did dylan say that? he was going to be fucking murdered. the police were going to find his decomposed corpse in eric’s cupboard in a year with “fag” written in blood on his face.

“no, i was. i was just joking, don’t worry, it’s great, it’s fine, don’t worry,” dylan quickly stumbled over to where the shotguns were propped up against the wall, and knelt down, obstinately checking the barrels for any bullet residue following their firing.

“dyl…” eric began, before dylan quickly exhaled sharply. he stood up and turned around, a manic smile on his face.

“mom’s expecting me home in ten minutes, i really should go,” dylan cut him off, shoving his things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “see you later, eric.”

dylan quickly opened the basement door, and eric heard him hurriedly say goodbye to kathy. a door slammed, and dylan was gone.

eric was still stood there, the jar of gunpowder in his hand. “i do wanna kiss,” he whispered out into the space where dylan had stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title: the way i feel inside by taron egerton

**Author's Note:**

> song: all the young dudes by david bowie
> 
> ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ socials ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙  
> reddit: zvezdna  
> discord: VoDKa#1999  
> ko-fi: ko-fi.com/bemorekind  
> tumblr: poppystardew


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